


L.A. Love (Bellamy and Clarke)

by kristen_p



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Actors, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Modern Setting Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Neck Kissing, Nurse Clarke, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristen_p/pseuds/kristen_p
Summary: Clarke has just moved to L.A. with her friend Harper, so that Harper can go after her acting career. Clarke plans to work at the local hospital. The first day there, Clarke runs into a special someone at the coffee shop....By the time she goes to the other counter to pick up her drink, he’s gone. Her heart drops a bit, knowing she’ll never see him again. He was so absolutely and perfectly beautiful, she could barely even speak to him.         If only she could have gotten his name.After a few minutes her drink is finally called, and when she goes to pick it up, she sees a napkin pinned under the cup. The napkin, she notices, has writing on it:"Next time, coffee is on me. 653-6949  – Bellamy Blake"





	1. New to L.A.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy my new AU! I love it and the plot is shaping up nicely! Comment please, I love feedback! Thanks for reading! -Kristen <3

Clarke was new to L.A.

 

She wasn’t especially excited when Harper begged her to come with so she could have a roommate in L.A. Her acting and modeling career was taking off pretty quickly, and she needed to relocate for some new jobs. And despite Clarke’s protestations, she decided to come with Harper. Plus, she knew someone who worked at one of the larger hospitals in L.A., so she had a perfect job lined up. She liked being a nurse, and she hoped that she would still enjoy it in L.A.

 

What she was _not_ enjoying, however, was the long line at the coffee shop. She had a full day of unpacking ahead of her, and she needed caffeine. The woman behind her in the Starbucks was talking really loudly on her phone, and Clarke almost couldn’t stand it anymore.

 _Let it go,_ Clarke thinks, _today is going to be a good day. L.A. was a good decision._ She tries to believe herself, but she’s not so sure that she can.

The tall brunette guy in front of her gets to the counter, and after he orders his coffee, he puts his hand in his back pocket to reach for his wallet – but it’s empty.

“Crap,” he says, “…crap. I, uh, I forgot my wallet.” he says to the barista, looking toward the door. There are at least 15 people between the guy and the door. There’s no way he’ll get out of there. 

“I can spot you, no big deal,” Clarke says, pulling her wallet out of her purse. He turns to look down at her and Clarke’s heart freezes as she sees his face. He’s incredibly gorgeous with freckles splashed across his nose, dark brown eyes, and the most perfect lips she’d ever seen. She barely registers his voice as he speaks to her.

“You would do that? Thank you so much,” he says, relief passing over his face quickly. Clarke manages a small smile, and then finds her voice. _Wow, he’s hot._

“Yeah, no problem! I totally understand that coffee is a _necessity.”_ she says, then passes her card to him. He hands it to the barista, and after a few seconds he returns her card to her.

“Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver,” he says as he hands card back. Clarke’s cheeks redden as their fingers brush with the exchange.

“You’re welcome, it’s totally no big deal,” she says, flustered. He walks away and goes to get his coffee, and Clarke proceeds to order her own.

By the time she goes to the other counter to pick up her drink, he’s gone. Her heart drops a bit, knowing she’ll never see him again. He was so absolutely and perfectly beautiful, she could barely even speak to him. _If only I could have gotten his name,_ she thinks.

After a few minutes her drink is finally called, and when she goes to pick it up, she sees a napkin pinned under the cup. The napkin, she notices, has writing on it:

 

**_Next time, coffee is on me. 653-6949 – Bellamy Blake_ **

 

Clarke can barely believe it. _He left me his name and number?_ She quickly grabs the cup and the napkin, feeling giddy (thanks to the coffee as well as the phone number).

She walks the few blocks back to her new apartment complex, sipping her coffee and looking at her surroundings. It’s sunny and warm in L.A. in the springtime, and she’s used to the constant rain and storm of the Midwest.

“I could get used to this weather,” she says to herself, taking another sip of her latte. She closes her eyes for a moment and soaks up the warmth of the sun. After a few minutes of peaceful walk, she arrives back at her new apartment complex to see Harper trying to pull a large suitcase out of the car.

“Come on….” she says, pulling at the handle. “Why is this so damn heavy?!” She keeps pulling, but it’s no use. The suitcase is too full and too packed into the car.

“Maybe another hand can help get that out,” Clarke calls, and Harper suddenly looks over to Clarke, a smile breaking on her face.

“Thank God, I thought you would never get back. Did you get lost?”

“Nope, the line at Starbucks was just _really_ long. Sorry. Need some help? Maybe both of us can get it out." Harper nods gratefully and Clarke sets her coffee on the curb. The napkin is safe in the back pocket of her jeans. They both grab ahold of the handle, yanking until it finally comes loose.

“Wow,” says Clarke, “there is no chance we will get this up two flights of stairs. We should probably find help. Have we met any of the neighbors yet? Maybe—” but Harper cuts her off with a storm of words.

“ _Actually,_ I did meet one of our neighbors. His name is Monty, and he lives right across the hall! I can definitely go get him, if we need help….” She was blushing by the end, and Clarke knew what that meant.

“Harper, you already have a crush on a neighbor? Come _on!”_ she says playfully. Harper rolls her eyes and grins.

“He’s really cute, okay? You can’t blame me. I’ll go see if he can help,” she says, and runs into the building and up the stairs. Clarke goes back to her precious coffee and plans the next couple of days before her new job starts. Today she’ll work on the apartment, getting it to look at least normal. And tomorrow, she is going to work with Harper, as moral support. It’s her first day on set of a new film, and Harper wants Clarke to be there in case she freaks out or something.

A few cars rush by Clarke, and then the door opens to the apartment complex. Harper steps out, and behind her is a man with jet-black hair and piercing eyes. After him is another guy, thinner with shorter hair.

“Clarke!” Harper says excitedly, walking over to the car where she is. “This is Monty, and this is Jasper. They live right across the hall!” She gestures to the two of them, and Clarke smiles and shakes their hands.

“Nice to meet you. We were just having so much trouble with our bags, and we decided to ask for some help, so thanks a lot for volunteering.” She finishes off her coffee and throws it away.

“Volunteering? I only did this for Monty and his not so secret crush…” says Jasper loudly, and Monty goes beet red. He shoves Jasper in the arm. Hard.

“Oh, come on man, it’s not that hard to see,” says Jasper. Harper is blushing as well, but smiles at Monty. He smiles back shyly. To break the awkward silence, Clarke butts in.

“Okay, so the biggest thing we’ve got is this gigantic suitcase, and then everything else is not _that_ bad, but it would be a lot quicker with help. What say we get started?” After a few seconds, the four of them jump into action, the guys getting the suitcase and Harper and Clarke grabbing smaller things.

The apartment isn’t _too_ small, but it’s small enough that by the time all their stuff is in the home, there is barely any room to stand.

“Well, that’s pretty much all we’ve got,” says Harper, climbing over a chair toward the front door, where the boys are standing. Monty smiles at Harper, and she’s quick to smile back. “Thanks for helping out you guys, it means a lot to us.” She’s talking to both of them, but her eyes are only on Monty. He’s looking right back at her intensely.

“You’re welcome. I’d love to help anytime,” he says, leaning against the frame of the front door. They continue to stare at each other, and Clarke gets uncomfortable with how intense the moment is. Clarke looks over to Jasper for help, but he looks just as uncomfortable and confused as she does.

“Well,” says Clarke loudly, and both Monty and Harper jump. “That’s all we’ve got for today! We are super tired, and we should probably get started on some of this unpacking. Maybe we’ll see you guys tomorrow?”

Jasper tugs on Monty’s arm, pulling him away from his intense eye contact with Harper.

“Oh, yeah, um, I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can all go get drinks or something? That would be really fun,” says Monty, smiling at Harper. She nods.

Clarke knows that this will continue to go on unless she does something, so she goes to the door and pulls it almost shut.

“Thank you again for all your help, we will see you soon!” Clarke shuts the door, finally.

“Wow, he is _gorgeous!!”_ says Harper a few seconds later. Clarke rolls her eyes once again and smiles at her love-struck friend.

“By the way you two were looking at each other, I thought you were going to rip each other’s clothes off before we even have beds set up. Get it under control, girl,” Clarke says, and then laughs. She loves that about Harper, that she is easy to make friends with and quick to fall in love. It makes her happy for her friend, but also jealous of her. Clarke needs a lot of time before she can trust anyone but herself.

“I guess I could calm it down a _bit,_ but where’s the fun in that? He’s nice, and did you SEE his arms? He’s my type, 100%, and it’s L.A., why not?” Harper says. Clarke can’t argue with that. This place is _very_ different from the Midwest and suburbia. Maybe this place will be a new life for Clarke.

She takes all the stuff out of her pockets and sets it on the kitchen counter. Then she flops onto the single piece of furniture ready for use, the couch.

“I am so tired, Harper. Wanna take a nap and then get started unpacking after lunch?” Clarke asks tiredly, kicking off her sneakers and propping a pillow under her head. Harper doesn’t respond and Clarke is too exhausted to care. She begins to drift off when Harper suddenly yelps.

“Oh my Gosh, CLARKE!” she screeches, and Clarke jerks awake violently, totally aware.

“Harper, jeez, what _is_ it? You almost gave me heart attack!” she says, getting to her feet. Harper turns around with the napkin (which Clarke had almost totally forgotten about) in her fingers.

“How did you _get_ this?” she asks, still talking very loudly. Clarke walks over to her, hands up in the air as a surrender. She has to climb over several boxes and appliances to get back into the kitchen, but eventually she’s standing right in front of her friend.

“Sorry, I totally forgot to tell you. I met a cute guy at Starbucks today. He forgot his wallet, so I paid for his coffee and he gave me his number. Isn’t it kind of cute? I don’t know if I’m really ready to start a relationship, but I think maybe I’ll text him to get that coffee. I don’t really know…” she couldn’t help herself from rambling, and she didn’t really have any more to say, but Harper’s face was very excited. Maybe too excited.

“….What?” Clarke asks suspiciously. Harper’s laughs loudly and Clarke thinks she might be going crazy.

“Clarke, do you know who this is? Do you even know?” she asks.

“Well, I do know, because his name is on the napkin Harper. It’s Bellamy Blake. Are you going crazy? Are the new apartment fumes getting to your head?”

“Oh my GOSH, you don’t even know!!!” Harper says, and then laughs again. Clarke crosses her arms and bites the inside of her cheek.

“Harper!” she says, almost yelling, “What is going on? What am I missing? Tell me!” Harper stops giggling and then sets the napkin carefully back down on the island.

“This napkin is from Bellamy Blake, the star of the new movie I’m in. He’s a celebrity, Clarke. I can’t _believe_ you haven’t heard of him!” She says. Clarke’s jaw drops. _A celebrity? Oh dear Lord._ That can’t possibly be true. She looks at the napkin with his handwriting scrawled on it and then back to Harper.

“Are you serious? Don’t mess with me, Harp,” Clarke says. Harper nods her head.

“I’m not kidding you, I promise. I’m a secondary character, but Bellamy? He’s the lead. Look it up, I promise! Here,” she says, and pulls out her phone. A few seconds later, she shows Clarke the IMDb of the movie she’s in. It’s titled “L.A. Love” and the main character is Ben Lewis, played by BELLAMY BLAKE.

“This can’t be happening,” Clarke says quietly, “I just got him coffee, I thought he was just some guy, I was going to call him—”

“So call him, oh my god! You _have_ to call him, Clarke! A real celebrity gave you his number, you _have_ to call,” Harper says, setting her phone down and grabbing Clarke’s arms.

“No way, Harp! Not gonna happen! A celebrity? Do you know me at _all?”_ Clarke says hysterically. She takes a breath to calm herself and then continues. “And I can- _not_ go to set with you tomorrow, not anymore. I’m sorry, but I can’t possibly see him again, or talk to him, ever.”

Clarke walks/climbs out of the kitchen and goes out onto the small terrace they have over looking the street below them. Harper follows.

“Clarke, why not? You won’t even give the poor boy a chance? He put himself out on the line for you, even gave you his number. What is so wrong with him that you can’t even call him to say no?” she asks, leaning up against the railing next to Clarke. A warm breeze blows by them, and Clarke takes a deep breath.

“Because I can’t possibly date a celebrity. I mean, look what happened to me when I dated a normal guy,” Clarke says. Harper puts an arm around Clarke’s shoulders.

“What happened with Finn was _not_ your fault. We all know that he was a total Jackass and cheated on you. That had nothing to do with you,” Harper replies.

“How could it _not_ have to do with me, Harper? Apparently I wasn’t good enough for Finn, so he had to go leave me and find someone better. Imagine me dating a celebrity. He’ll find someone better in a day, or even an hour. He’s probably already forgotten about me, anyway,” Clarke says, dejected. She hasn’t quite gotten over what happened with Finn. She _does_ want to start something new, but now might not be the best time. Finn only left her a couple months ago. She still felt raw about what had happened.

“Clarke, I’m so sorry. You are much too good for Finn, and he should have never treated you that way. And you don’t know everything about Bellamy Blake. He could still be dreaming about you right now, for all you know. Don’t assume he’s forgotten about you, girl. You’re beautiful and amazing and you should never doubt yourself. I know that’s tough. And if you need some time to be single, do it! Forget Blake, whatever. I’m here for whatever you need, Clarke. And if I ever see that bastard Finn again I’m going to rip his sick face off, got it? No need to fear,” Harper says, punching her fist into the L.A. air. Clarke breaks a small smile and nods.

“Thanks, Harp. I don’t know what I would do without you,” Clarke says.

“Well, you wouldn’t be here, that’s for sure. And you wouldn’t have gotten BELLAMY BLAKE’S NUMBER!!!” she says, joking and giggling all over again. They make their way back into the house and begin unpacking. Clarke feels a little better after the talk with Harper. Finn was _definitely_ a piece of human garbage, and she should try not to think about him anymore. And Bellamy Blake, a REAL celebrity, gave her his number. Things are really looking up. Clarke smiles a bit as she and Harper set up the kitchen table.

“Also Clarke?” Harper asks, arranging a chair. Clarke looks up. “Can you pleeeeeeeease still come to set with me tomorrow? I promise you can just sit in my chair and study nursing or read a book or something, I promise, but I can’t imagine this first day on set without you,” she says, all joking aside. Clarke puts her palms flat on the wooden table, taking a long breath. _Do I want to see Bellamy Blake again? I can’t let Harper down._ She eventually decides.

“Okay,” she says, smiling across the table at her friend, “I’ll come. But _no_ forced conversations with Bellamy Blake, okay? He probably won’t even remember me, but I don’t want to take any chances, alright?” 

Harper squeals with joy. "Yay!!!!!! Oh yes, thank you Clarke!! I promise I won't do anything dumb, don't worry. Oh, this is going to be so great!" 

"Let's hope so," Clarke says, and then they begin unpacking. All Clarke can think about while unpacking is that she is going to see Bellamy Blake again.  _Oh no, what have I done?_ She thinks. Tomorrow can wait forever. She needs time to prepare herself for Bellamy Blake. 

 


	2. On Set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke goes to set with Harper, and runs into Bellamy Blake, movie star. Sass takes place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm writing like a maniac!! I've got the next chapter well under way. PLEASE comment!! I love feedback! -Kristen :D

Clarke stares into the mirror, slightly panicked.

“Harper?” she calls into the other room, “Can I use your eye shadow palette?” As she examines her face, she worries about what Bellamy will see. _Will he see this zit? How am I supposed to look as good as a movie star?_ She sighs, running a hand through her blonde, wavy hair. She’s put just enough blush on, and her mascara frames her blue eyes perfectly, but she still doesn’t feel right.

“Yeah! Sorry, I was grabbing us coffee from the kitchen. My palette is right…. here,” she says, pulling a really expensive palette out of a drawer. She hands it to Clarke with a knowing look.

“What?” Clarke says, opening the palette and contemplating colors.

“Oh, nothing. Just that you seem a little…. nervous,” Harper says nonchalantly, leaning up against the sink.

“I am _not_ nervous, are you serious? I’m 23, I know how to talk to a guy,” Clarke says, but she’s not so sure. Harper just shrugs her shoulders and hops out of the bathroom.

“Whatever you say. It just looks like you’re a bit on edge. Are you almost ready to get to set? I want to be extra early,” says Harper.

“Yeah, just give me a sec,” Clarke says, smoothing a brown-ish eye shadow over her lids. _I hope this doesn’t make me look like a try-hard,_ she thinks to herself. After she’s done, she examines herself in the full-length mirror next to the sink. She is wearing a grey tank top, denim shorts, and a light sweater. Her hair, for once, decided to look good, and the eye shadow doesn’t look bad at all. She takes a deep breath.

“Okay, let me pull on some sandals and I’ll be ready to go!” she yells to Harper, who is waiting in the kitchen, sipping her coffee. Soon Clarke is ready and both of them are out the door. As Harper drives, Clarke looks through her purse for her phone.

“Crap, I think I might have left it… wait… nope, it’s right here,” she mumbles, grabbing her iphone and something soft along with it. It’s the napkin.

“Harper,” Clarke says, “Did you put this in here? I left it on my nightstand at home.” Harper raises her eyebrows innocently.

“You did? Huh, I don’t know how that could have happened, weird.” but she’s smiling and Clarke knows that she put it in there. Clarke sighs.

“Nothing is going to happen, he won’t recognize me, Harp. It’s not worth it, there are _tons_ of guys in L.A. and I don’t need to be dating a celebrity. I don’t like that much attention, you know that,” Clarke says. She doesn’t really like attention, but it’s true that she can’t stop thinking about Bellamy Blake.

 

***

 

She can’t help it, but as the two girls walk onto set, Clarke’s heart starts beating quickly. She _is_ nervous, and she didn’t admit it to Harper earlier. There is something about him that just makes her heart jump. And now she gets to see him again. Bellamy Blake.

Set is a lot noisier than she imagined it would be, and there are people _everywhere._ Clarke holds her book (yes, she brought a book) closer to her chest, feeling nervous and uncomfortable. Harper is practically glowing, her eyes wide with happiness and wonder.

“This is amazing! I can’t believe I got this part, Clarke, you have no idea. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me, seriously,” Harper says. Clarke smiles. She’s happy that her friend is living her dream. She can’t wait to get to work herself, she loves working as a nurse and hopefully she’ll like her new job at the L.A. Central Hospital.

They make their way to where the cast seats are, and Harper sees her agent.

“Thank God, I feel so lost without you!” Harper says as she throws her arms around a thin brunette. The girl laughs and hugs her back quickly before she steps away and sees Clarke.

“Is this the ‘moral support’ you texted me about?” she asks, and Harper nods.

“Clarke, I’d like you to meet Raven Reyes, my agent. Raven, this is Clarke. You are both my best friends, so you should get along great! Wow, it’s crazy that you’re meeting,” she says. Harper rambles on and goes to find her chair with her name on it, talking excitedly the whole time. She leaves Clarke behind with Raven.

“She’s usually pretty peppy, but not this peppy….” says Clarke suspiciously.

“She’s _definitely_ always this peppy…” Raven replies, and they both chuckle.

“You’re right. Always.” Raven shows her around set, and Clarke is impressed. This film definitely has a lot of funding, based on the set alone. And Clarke knows almost nothing about film.

“So, tell me more about this film, Raven. As an agent, what do you do? Will this film be really popular?” Clarke asks her as they wander through the cast trailers.

“Oh, this film is the biggest I’ve ever done. It’s probably going to be a hit in the box office, I mean, it’s a pretty well-funded drama,” she says, adjusting her NASA cap on her head. “I really am not into drama. I typically work on space movies. I used to work for NASA, but when I saw how badly space was being portrayed on screen, I had to step in and do film. I really do more directing than being an agent, but Harper is a special case. She’s amazing, talented, and I can’t _not_ represent her, ya know? She’s been my friend for so long.”

Clarke nods at this. “I can’t believe that Harper is going to be in a Blockbuster, that’s so impressive. I feel bad being on set when I really have no idea what film is at all,” Clarke says, pulling at the tips of her hair.

“Eh, it’s no big deal. No one really knows what they are doing, we’re all just winging it,” Raven replies. They get to the end of the long row of cast trailers, and the last trailer on the right has his name written on it: Bellamy Blake.

Clarke looks down and tries to hide her blush. She can’t let Raven see her freakish behavior.

“We should head back, filming is supposed to start in about fifteen. That okay, 'moral support'?” Raven says, looking over at her. Clarke smiles and nods, hoping her red cheeks have disappeared.

Then, from behind her, Clarke hears the door to Bellamy Blake’s trailer open and shut. _No, no, no, no, no, oh my gosh…_ she thinks. She can’t confront him; she was crazy to come here. Where did Harper go? She hears the _click click_ of shoes on the ground and hopes that Raven doesn’t see Clarke go beet red and hug her book closer to her chest. But it’s not Bellamy. A tall, dark haired woman in 5-inch heels strides past them, not even making eye contact. She flips her hair over her shoulder and pulls her sunglasses down over her eyes, making her way to set.

“We’re _inside,_ and she just put her sunglasses on. That girl is awful,” Raven says. Clarke swallows, hard.

“Who was that?” Clarke asks.

“I think her name is Echo Snow. And I’ve heard she’s a total snob,” continues Raven, but Clarke doesn’t care. What she _does_ care about is that this woman, Echo, just came out of Bellamy Blake’s trailer.

 

***

Clarke spends a lot of the day hiding behind a Med book, reading thoroughly and hoping that Bellamy Blake doesn’t see her. He hasn’t seen her quite yet, or so she thinks. He _is_ the main character, and he’s pretty busy. Sitting in Harper’s chair, she can pretty clearly see the set of the house. Harper plays a supporting role, but still has a substantial amount of lines. She plays Carly, the main girl character’s sister. The main girl character is played by none other than Echo Snow, the girl who left Bellamy’s trailer. _They’re probably dating,_ Clarke notes to herself. She hides behind her Med book again, trying to obscure herself from view.

“… aaand cut!,” says the director, pulling his headset off. “Let’s take fifteen, okay? I need some coffee. Great job so far, you guys.” The director walks over to the food table, and most of the cast wanders around for a minute before making their way over toward the chairs. Harper rushes over, looking a bit exhausted but still giddy.

“Wow, this is so amazing. I mean, _look,_ Clarke, I have _lines._ I feel awesome, omygosh. And everyone is so nice! Except for—”

“Excuse me,” says a voice behind Harper. She turns around. It’s Echo. “Can you try not to step on my lines so much? I know you’re only in a few scenes so you’re trying to take as much spotlight as you can, but I really need you to not step on my lines. It’s making the scenes worse. Thanks,” she says, and clicks away on her heels.

Harper takes a deep breath and looks over at Clarke.

“She’s an ass,” Clarke says, getting up from Harper’s chair and letting her sit down in it. “Don’t worry about her. Do whatever you want, Harp. You’re amazing, no matter what she says. Take a seat and relax. Want me to get you something from the food table?”

“Yeah,” she says, picking up her script and sitting down. “Thanks Clarke. You’d think the first day on set she would at least _try_ to be nice, but I guess that’s not going to happen. Ugh, I was just hoping to make some new friends, you know?”

“You don’t want her as a friend. She wears sunglasses inside. Lame,” says Clarke. Harper chuckles a bit and smiles.

“You’re probably right.”

“I’m definitely right. What do you want to eat?”

“Hmm… a donut? Maybe they have some left over from this morning,” she says, flipping through the pages of her script.

“On it! I’ll be right back,” Clarke says. She sets her med book down and heads over to the table. Luckily, Bellamy Blake isn’t there to scare her away. She scans the table until she sees the last leftover donut, and reaches out to grab it. Before she can get ahold of it, a larger, darker hand swipes it.

“Hey,” she says. She turns around – right into Bellamy Blake.

“Oh,” he says jokingly, “did you... did you want this?” By the way he’s looking at her and taunting her with a donut, he definitely remembers her. Clarke turns bright red, and curses herself internally.

“It’s not for me, it’s for Harper,” is all she can manage. She’s too busy looking at his freckles again, and the way his lips make a perfect smirk.

“Why didn’t you text me?” he asks, handing her the donut and losing the smirk. Was he serious? _Did he actually want me to text him?_

“I, uh… I was going to, I just haven’t had time yet…” she says, picking up a napkin for Harper. She takes a step away, but he takes a step with her.

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just know that most girls wouldn’t miss the opportunity to go out with a celebrity…” he says, the cocky tone in his voice back. Clarke turns on her heel, right into his face.

“A celebrity? I had no idea who you were until Harper told me who you were. Plus, I wouldn’t go out with a celebrity,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him. He takes a step back, shocked.

“Wouldn’t date a celebrity? Why not?”

“Too much press. I don’t really like people in my business. It makes sense,” she says. Bellamy’s head falls to the side for a moment as he considers.

“Fair enough,” he says. Huh. She sort of expected a snide remark or a cocky joke, but he had gone back to his serious self. “But you have my number if you want it, and I _do_ still owe you a cup of coffee.” with that, Bellamy Blake steps away from her, winking before his dark curls disappear from view.

Clarke, a bit confused, heads back over to Harper to give her the donut. _One minute he’s cocky, and the next he’s real. Which is the truth?_ she asks herself. Her curiosity is also making her nervous. She shouldn’t care… but she does.

“You okay? You look lost,” says Harper with a mouthful of donut.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Bellamy Blake talked to me, and definitely remembered me,” she says nonchalantly, hoping Harper won’t freak out. She freaks out.

“Omygosh are you serious? What did he say? Did he hit on you? Did you like it? Do you like him? Date him omg!! How did I even miss this?! Ugh sorry, too many questions. Spill,” she says, finally stopping her flow of words. Clarke takes a breath and looks around, hoping no one heard that explosion of emotion. Luckily, the only person nearby is Raven, who is too busy looking at her phone to really care what Harper is saying.

“Gosh, Harp, keep it down a bit, okay? There are others here, specifically others with dark curly hair and freckles, so keep it down, k?” Clarke says. A smile spreads across Harper’s face.

“Ohmygosh, Clarke, you _do_ like him!” she says. Thankfully, it’s quieter.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter, I don’t have time for a relationship. And I also told him I wouldn’t date him anyway, so that bridge is pretty much burned,” she says back, tucking some stray hair behind her ear.

“You’re shitting me. Clarke! Are you serious?! Why would you do that, what did you say?”

“I told him I don’t date celebrities,” Clarke responds, and Harper shakes her head.

“You are a crazy woman, do you know that? I bet he’d still date you though, because you’re a total catch. But if you don’t want to, that’s up to you,” Harper says, putting her script down and standing up. She goes over to the mirrors, where a makeup artist comes over to touch her up. After the woman leaves, Harper turns back around to Clarke.

“Clarke?” she asks. Clarke looks over to her best friend. “Don’t be afraid to let yourself be happy, okay? Just… don’t hold yourself back because you’re afraid of getting hurt. Love you, girl,” she says. Harper steps over onto set, leaving Clarke to her thoughts.

_Am I holding myself back?,_ she asks herself. She can’t find an answer. Instead, she sits down and watches set for a bit to distract herself. Picking up Harper’s script, she follows along with the scene they’re working on.

 

**Bellamy [Ben]:** …I don’t want to lose you. Please tell me what happened.

 

**Echo [Kayla]:** Ben, nothing happened! I just… I just _don’t_ want this, this was a mistake, okay? I… I have to go.

 

_Kayla rushes toward the door, but Ben stops her, grabbing her hand._

**Ben:** Kayla… _(Ben falters for a moment, choked up by emotion)_ Please. Don’t let your fears keep you from love.

 

_Kayla looks down at their intertwined hands, and then back up to Ben. She rips her hand out of his, suddenly._

**Kayla** : I’m sorry. _(She rushes out the door, slamming it behind her)._

“Cut!” says the director. Immediately, the actors begin to reset for another run of the scene. Echo opens the door to the fake apartment and comes back in, while Bellamy moves back to his original spot. Harper is somewhere offstage with Raven, probably. “That was good, but let’s do another take of that, and next time, Echo, can you try to face the camera a bit more? We’re missing some of your face in the shot.”

“Fine,” she says, but her face does not seem _fine._ She looks like she might slaughter someone. _What is with this girl? Why is she such a diva?_ Clarke thinks. She looks over to Bellamy, on accident… maybe. He looks tired, and runs a hand through his dark hair. For the scene, he’s wearing a white button down and dress pants. The shirt clings to his chest and arms perfectly, showing just the right amount of muscle. The sleeves are rolled up just enough to see the muscles of his forearms, along with his dark-tan skin. The first two buttons of his shirt are undone. _That looks really good on him. Well, I think mostly anything would look good on him,_ she thinks.

Bellamy must sense Clarke staring, because he looks over at her as she’s thinking about his outfit and how it would look nice with a tie. She blushes and looks down at her script, trying to force her red cheeks to go away. When she looks up, he’s still staring at her. A few seconds ago, he looked downtrodden and tired. Now, he looks happy and energetic as a smile spreads on his face. He _is_ a good actor. And he’s got the most beautiful smile Clarke has ever seen.

“Okay, let’s reset and get these cameras going,” says the director. Clarke smiles back shyly at Bellamy before he looks away to get back into character.

His smiles fades, his expression softens, and his face takes on the distraught look from seconds ago. He pushes his lips to the side, adding to the effect.

“He’s really good,” Clarke says aloud, to no one in particular.

“That’s for damn sure, or else I wouldn’t have hired him,” says a voice nearby, and she realizes that it’s the director. He’s come over to grab something from a table near her and he now examines the set from afar like Clarke.

“They work well together, don’t they?” he asks Clarke, looking at Bellamy and Echo. Clarke nods.

“As long as they aren’t ripping each other’s throats out, I might just make it through this film,” he says, and wanders back into his seat right off set. He replaces his headphones and yells, “let’s get this thing started, alright? I wanna be out of here before ten.” They begin the scene again.

For the rest of the day, Clarke can’t keep her eyes off Bellamy. She even tries to pick up her Med book and go through some review, but it’s useless. She’s so fascinated by his acting and his pure talent that a Med book actually sounds boring to her. His eyes portray so many emotions, Clarke can hardly keep track. He knows his role well, and executes it perfectly. He really _is_ a great actor. She can’t really believe she’d never heard of him before yesterday. Actually, she _can_ believe that. Her head is always stuck in a Med book. But for today, her head is stuck on Bellamy Blake and his perfect eyes. And the napkin she has with his phone number on it…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, comment! Love you all and thanks for reading! Stay tuned for the next chapter!! -Kristen


	3. The Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke goes to a club with Harper, and Bellamy is there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!! This chapter took a lot more work, so it took more time. I hope you all love it! Comment, PLEASE!! I love feedback and welcome anything you have to say. Enjoy the chapter and thanks for reading! -Kristen <3

 

            There is no WAY Clarke is going to wear this dress.

            “No,” she says to Harper, pulling the skirt down further so it covers more of her legs. They are going out to a club, with Monty and Jasper. Clarke decided to go, because Harper begged her, and she wasn’t going to let her best friend go alone. But there’s no way she’s wearing this dress.

            “Harper, I said I’d go with you, but I never said I would wear one of your dresses. This is WAY too tight! Isn’t it obvious? Look, my chest is practically exploding out of this thing,” she says. Clarke looks in the mirror again and sighs, hoping Harper will let her wear a hoodie and jeans.

            “Clarke, come _on!_ It looks hot on you, I promise. Yeah, it’s a bit tight, but who cares!? It shows all of your curves, so accept it! Plus, it’s a club in L.A., I can’t let you go in a _hoodie,_ Clarke,” she says, brushing some blush on her cheeks in the other mirror.

            “Can I at least wear flats?” Clarke asks.

            “3-inches,” she responds.

            “2.”

            “Fine,” says Harper. Clarke goes into her room to look for her black kitten heels to match this black dress. Looks like she’ll be wearing it. “It’ll be fu-un,” says Harper as Clarke makes her way into the next room.

            “You had better be right,” Clarke calls back. She rifles through her closet until she finds the shoes she’s looking for, and wrestles them on.

            “Okay, what do you think?” Clarke asks, appearing outside of the bathroom door where Harper is getting ready. Harper sets her lipstick down and looks over to Clarke. A smile spreads across her face, and she makes a small giddy shriek.

            “Clarke, you look _hot._ Seriously hot. Like if I weren’t half-in love with Monty, I would hit on you,” she says. Clarke rolls her eyes, but joins Harper in the bathroom to see herself in the full-size mirror.

            “I do look pretty good,” she says, examining herself. Harper had helped her curl her hair, so instead of just wavy, Clarke had soft, long blonde curls framing her face. The dress is definitely tight, but she understands why Harper likes it on her. It’s short and tight, but it has a pretty sweetheart neckline and thin straps.

            “I packed a comfy outfit in my bag, as well as some flats, so I can change on the cab ride home. This dress might look good, but it hurts,” says Clarke over her shoulder to Harper.

            “Fair enough,” her friend replies. Harper looks over at her, then cocks her head to the side, considering.

            “What?” Clarke says, nervous. “What? Do I have bags under my eyes?”

            “No, no! You’re only missing one thing,” says Harper. Clarke looks down at Harper’s hands, seeing that she’s holding a bag full of lipsticks. Clarke shakes her head.

            “Not happening,” Clarke says, trying to back away. Harper follows her.

            “Just a _tiny_ bit of lipstick won’t hurt,” she whines, pushing the bag closer to Clarke’s face.

            “Was that the cab I just heard honking?” Clarke says, grinning and slipping out of Harper’s reach, out into the hallway (which still has plenty of boxes that need unpacking).

            “Clarke! Get back here!” Harper says, but Clarke has already busted out of their apartment door, heading downstairs to the cab.

 

***

 

            The club is pretty packed by the time they get there, with people everywhere and music blasting. Clarke would have preferred a movie night and pizza, but she’s doing this for Harper. She really likes Monty, and it looks as if Monty really likes her.  

            “There they are!” Harper says, pointing. She turns to Clarke quickly, her eyes nervous. “Do I look okay? Ugh, I feel stupid.” She’s wearing a tight black skirt with a red tank top. She looks beautiful, and Clarke has no idea why she would feel so nervous.

            “You look perfect, Harp. Plus, it’s _obvious_ that he likes you. Remember yesterday? I had to literally shove him out the door so he would stop looking at you,” Clarke says. Harper nods, remembering.

            “You’re right,” she says, and then she flips her hair, totally dramatic. Several heads turn as her light blonde hair grabs their attention. “Let’s go!”

            They make their way through the crowd, toward the dance floor. Monty and Jasper greet them, and they dance for a few songs. Well, Harper and Monty dance. Clarke and Jasper mostly stand near each other and try to have a conversation over the loud music.

            “She really likes him,” Clarke says over the noise. Jasper nods.

            “That’s pretty obvious. He might be a little more shy about it, but I know that Monty likes her too. Do you think they’d be good together?” he asks. Clarke looks over at them. Harper has her arms around Monty’s shoulders, and they’re swaying together, chest to chest. It’s not even a slow song, but they’re doing whatever they want. They look like they’re in their own world. _I want that,_ a voice in her head says, but Clarke quickly remembers that she still has to answer Jasper.

            “Yes. I really think they’d be cute together. It’s good that you care about him so much,” she says, trying to distract herself from her thoughts.

            “He’s like a brother to me. I have to make sure that he’s falling in love with the right girl,” Jasper says back.

            Clarke thinks the music can’t get any louder, but to her surprise, it does. A body slams into her, and Clarke loses her balance. Her knees buckle, and she’s headed for the floor until Jasper stops her fall, catching her waist and re-centering her. They both smile and laugh, a bit awkwardly.

            “Sorry,” she laughs, “It’s so busy in here. Wanna go to the bar and get a drink?”

            “Would I? Yes!!! Let’s go get some moonshine,” he jokes, and they make their way over to the bar. Jasper becomes quickly immersed in his flirtations with a bartender with short brown hair, so Clarke decides to go take a seat on a barstool.

            “Hey, my feet hurt, I’m gonna go sit down, okay? Stay here, I’ll be totally fine,” she says, smiling. Jasper nods, turning back to the pretty girl behind the bar. Clarke shakes her head, chuckling. _There must be something in the air of this club,_ she thinks, _no one can stay off of each other._

            Clarke makes her way over to the stools, needing a rest from her heels. Luckily, there is one stool left, and Clarke hops into that one. Since the bartender is still talking to Jasper, Clarke takes a moment to just rest. She lets her head fall into her hands, taking a breath. _I’m so tired,_ she thinks.

            “Tired?” the voice next to her asks. She nods, but freezes when she registers the voice. She looks to her right and comes face to face with him. Bellamy Blake.

“I—yeah. I didn’t even see you there,” she says, sitting up and studying his face. His hair is falling in his eyes a bit, and his freckles are more visible in the colored club lighting. Lights and shadows pass over his face. He looks calm and relaxed, looking back at her.

“You looked like you were having a good time. That was a nice fall you had back there, it was lucky that guy was there to catch you,” he says, glancing down at his drink for a moment. Clarke thinks she might have seen a hint of jealousy in his eyes.

“I didn’t come here with him. I came with friends. Besides, Jasper looks a little busy with someone else…” Clarke says, glancing over at Jasper, who now has the bartender leaning over the bar toward him. The back of her tank top says “Maya.”

“In that case,” says Bellamy, showing a smile that makes Clarke’s heart explode, “can I buy you a drink? This is different than the coffee, I still owe you that, but for now, would a drink do?”

“I _would_ say yes, but I promised Harper not to drink. I have to make sure she gets home okay, and that she doesn’t end up going home with _him_ quite yet,” Clarke says, pointing toward Monty and Harper on the dance floor. They are standing off to the corner now, standing very close to one another. Monty has an arm around Harper’s shoulders and a drink in one hand. Harper sips on a margarita. Clarke looks to see if Bellamy can see the couple, but when she looks back, he’s looking right into her eyes.

“You look beautiful, Clarke,” he says seriously.

“You know, I never even told you my name. That means you’ve been spying,” she says, maintaining eye contact. Bellamy’s lips pull up at the corners.

“I, uh… I might have been spying a little bit,” he says. He runs a hand through his long hair and looks down for a second. _He’s been spying on me!_ A voice in Clarke’s head screams. Her heart beats a little faster.

“Well,” Clarke says, sitting up taller, “why am I beautiful?” Bellamy’s dark eyes shoot to hers. He clears his throat, but says nothing.

“You said I look beautiful. Why?” she asks. “This is me deciding whether or not to call you. If you say ‘you have a nice ass’ I’ll know _not_ to call you.” She’s smiling, but she’s also serious. She doesn’t want some movie star to just treat her as a one-night-stand. Bellamy takes a sip from his drink and then bites his lip for a second before speaking.

“Well, I know you’re physically beautiful. That’s easy to see. That thing about having a nice ass? It’s true. But that’s not the only reason I think you’re beautiful. You’ve got striking blue eyes, gorgeous hair, perfect lips, and amazing everything else. You’re beautiful because you’re smart. I saw that Med book you kept hiding behind today,” he says. Clarke is surprised and flattered, but tries to keep her face straight. Bellamy goes on, “You’re also beautiful because you’re a good friend. You’re at this bar, which doesn’t really seem like your scene, but you’re here to support a friend. And you’re also skipping out on drinking for her. _That_ is definitely a good friend move. You’re also kind to strangers, shown when you spotted me for coffee. So far, you are an incredibly beautiful person. I could also go on forever about the dress you’re wearing, but I think you get the picture. Unless you’d like me to explain?”

Clarke was almost speechless. Had he really noticed her _that much?_ Her cheeks get red, and she looks down to hide her face.

“Don’t do that,” he says gently, putting his fingers under her chin and lifting her head up to his. “Remember? You’re beautiful.” And Clarke, despite her fear and stubbornness, lifts her face back up. She smiles at Bellamy Blake. _Can he really be interested in me? A movie star? Am I ready to do this after what Finn did?_ Thought raced through her head, but somehow she remained clam. Something in Bellamy’s eyes made her feel safe, wanted, and cared for. Tonight, she’ll just accept that.

“Thank you, Bellamy,” she says. “I think I may have judged you a little too harshly. I really have no idea what I’m doing in L.A., and I just assumed that all the guys here would be… I don’t know, awful. But I might have judged too quickly with you.”

“What can I say,” he says, leaning up against the counter of the bar and clasping his hands behind his head dramatically, “people misjudge me all the time. I’m not the cocky bastard everyone thinks I am.”

“Yes you are, you just have some good in there as well,” says Clarke, smiling and rolling her eyes at his drama. “Also, why are you here? Did you follow me? That would be creepy…” Bellamy just laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound.

“No, I know the bartender,” he says. “Octavia!” He has to shout over the din of the club, but a thin, dark haired girl with the name “Octavia” written on the back of her tank top turns around and steps over to Clarke and Bellamy.

“Another already, Bell? It’s not even midnight,” the girl says, and turns to look at Clarke. “Can I get you something? A beer, maybe?”

“Clarke, this is my sister Octavia. O, this is Clarke. I want to take her out to coffee, but I don’t know if she wants to go out with me yet.” He says it so casually, Clarke is almost shocked. _Go out with me_. _Do I want to go out with him? Yeah, I do._

“Nice to meet you, Clarke,” she says. Octavia leans across the bar to get closer to her, and says jokingly, “if I were you, I’d run the hell away from this crazy. You’d be dodging a bullet, honestly.” Bellamy hears this and pulls at the ends of Octavia’s hair.

“Hey, you’re my sister, you are supposed to _help_ me get a date, not make the girl run away,” he chides. Octavia sticks her tongue out at Bellamy and turns back to Clarke.

“So, can I get you anything?” she asks. Clarke shakes her head.

“Not tonight, but thanks. It’s really nice to meet you, Octavia,” Clarke says.

“I hope you take a chance on this loser,” she says, a little more honestly. She glances over at her brother, giving him a soft smile. “Should I get you another drink, Bell?”

“I’d love that, actually,” he says.

“Will do!” and with that, she walks away. Clarke turns back to Bellamy.

“A little sister? That’s sweet, Bellamy. It seems like you two get along,” Clarke says. She tucks some of her curls behind her ear.

“Most of the time we do, but when we fight it isn’t pretty. She’s really stubborn and persistent,” he says. Clarke laughs.

“And I wonder where she gets that from,” she says. Bellamy rolls his eyes knowingly.

“She’s the most important thing I’ve got. We only have each other,” he says. Clarke pulls her eyebrows together, sorry for him.

“Are your parents…” she begins, afraid to know the answer.

“Dead. When we were pretty young. Car crash. O and I made it, despite a lot of tough stuff,” he says. Clarke doesn’t know why he’s being so open with her, but she appreciates it. Quickly, as if he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, he changes the subject.

“So, how are you liking L.A.? It’s a lot to take in, I understand,” he says. Clarke shakes her head incredulously.

“It is…. it’s busy and crazy and scary, but I love it. I’ve barely seen anything, but this city just seems so alive, you know? I never thought I would be a city girl, but I could be, I don’t know. I like my apartment, even though it’s small. It’s cozy, you know?” Clarke begins to ramble, she knows it, but Bellamy hangs on to every word, laughing and smiling and asking questions. For the first time in L.A., she feels like she might be home.

 

***

Bellamy Blake has never met a more interesting person than Clarke Griffin – and he’s met _tons_ of people. She’s been talking for 30 minutes about L.A., her new apartment, what she hopes for at her new job, but to Bellamy it only seems like she’s been talking for seconds. He loves watching her: the way she bites her bottom lip while thinking, the way her hair falls forward over her eyes a bit, and the way she smiles while talking about the things she loves. She’s doing that right now, as she explains what it’s like to work in a hospital. Bellamy takes a sip of his beer and listens.

“… and honestly, it’s probably nothing compared to the busy hospitals here in L.A., but it was so exciting. Sorry,” she says, her cheeks turning pink, “I’m probably talking your ears off.”

The neon lights of the club illuminate her face from different angles, casting shadows along her soft-looking cheeks.

“No,” says Bellamy, “I really like listening.” And as if he can’t help it, his eyes accidentally slip down to her chest. Her dress fits her _very_ well, and Clarke probably knows that. When his eyes glance back up to hers, she’s looking right at him, her eyebrows raised in accusation. Crap, he’s been caught.

“Bellamy Blake, were you just checking me out?” she asks, biting her lower lip. _Damn, she’s hot,_ Bellamy thinks. In response to her question, Bellamy smirks.

“As a matter of fact, I did. I’m sure you must know how good you look in that dress, Princess,” he says.

“Princess?” she asks.

“Only Royalty would wear a dress that nice,” Bellamy explains. Clarke shoves at his arm playfully, her thin fingers pressing into the skin of his arm. He’s been with girls before, but his heart has never beat like this around anyone else. Clarke makes him feel nervous, and dammit if he doesn’t get those cliché butterflies when she touches him. She’s beautiful, smart, and loving. And he wants her.

“Clarke,” Bellamy says in a rush, “I know you said you don’t want to date celebrities, and I get that, but if you just give me a chance, I—” Clarke is intently looking at him, her eyes locked on his, but her phone starts ringing and Bellamy is interrupted.

“Bellamy,” she says, looking at her phone, “It’s the hospital, I… I’m sorry, I have to take this.” and with that, she pulls the phone up to her ear and rushes out of the club.

_What was I thinking,_ Bellamy says to himself, _she won’t want me. She already said she wouldn’t date celebrities. Plus, she hasn’t called or texted._ He knows he should forget the idea, that Clarke can’t ever fall for him, but for some reason he clings to his hope. If he doesn’t, he might fall completely into despair.

“Hey there, stranger,” says a seductive voice from behind him. Bellamy sighs, exasperated by the voice.

“What are you doing here, Echo? Don’t I see you enough on set already?” Echo still stands right behind him, so Bellamy swivels in his stool to face her. She stares down at him, standing over him.

“I’m here because I want to fix our… relationship,” she says, stepping closer to him. Bellamy tries to lean back, but he can’t. His back is up against the bar.

“What relationship? We’re not friends, not anything. Maybe co-workers, but—”

“Oh come _on,_ Bellamy. Haven’t you ever wondered if we could be something… something more?” she says, getting closer still. Bellamy leans farther back.

“Echo, I honestly have never wondered that. Look, please leave me alone, I am actually interested in—”

But he can’t finish, because Echo is already pressing her lips to his, and trapping him against the bar. Her body is shoved up against his, and Bellamy takes a moment to react. He pushes her away, forcing her out of his space, but it’s too late. Bellamy looks to the door of the bar. Clarke had already walked back in, and she’d seen everything.

 

***

 

            Clarke hangs up the phone. She’s a little disappointed but excited at the same time. The hospital had called. They need her to come in as soon as possible, because there was a pile-up on a highway, with tons of injuries. She’s disappointed, though, because her time with Bellamy will be cut short. She walks back toward the club, her heart beating faster for some reason. _What was he getting ready to say?_ she wonders, fluffing her hair before walking in the door again. She shows the bouncer her ID and steps through the doors.

            And her heart falls into her stomach.

            Echo Snow, the girl from set, is kissing Bellamy. She has him pushed up against the bar, and her hands are all over him. Memories flash back to Clarke.

            _Clarke, walking in the door to her apartment, looking for Finn._

            Echo puts her hands around Bellamy’s neck.

            _Finn, tangled up on the couch with some girl Clarke had never seen._

Bellamy, his lips pressed up against Echo’s.

            _Finn, his fingers grasping at that girl’s back, chest, everything._

Bellamy pushes her away, roughly. But the damage has already been done.

            Clarke runs out of the club.

 

***

 

            He can’t let her get away. Bellamy runs out into the street after Clarke, pushing past the bouncers and people in his way.

            He makes it out onto the sidewalk and sees Clarke, booking it up the sidewalk in her heels, carrying her bag in one arm.          

            “Clarke! Clarke, please!” Bellamy begins, but she keeps running up the sidewalk, heels clicking as she goes.

            “Clarke!” he shouts, and this time she turns around. Tears shine in her eyes and trail down her face. Bellamy’s heart sinks.

            “Clarke,” Bellamy says again, almost a whisper. He hates himself for causing her pain. Clarke takes a step toward him.

            “What?! What, Bellamy? What do you have to say to excuse what you just did? Because I’ve heard all the reasons before. I’ve heard _all_ the justifications! So tell me, Bellamy Blake, what is your excuse for fucking with my emotions?”

            Bellamy says nothing, making the connection. _Someone has cheated on her before,_ he thinks to himself. _Fuck me, I’ve made her relive all of her pain._ He takes step toward her, cautiously.           

            “Clarke, I’m so sorry,” he starts. Clarke shakes her head, her curls waving back and forth.

            “Sorry isn’t good enough,” she says through a sob. Bellamy _has_ to do something, has to comfort her. He reaches out a hand, slowly, toward her arm. She jerks away.

            “I… I just—” he starts.

            “Save it! Just… save it.” Clarke replies, stepping away. “I don’t need any more shitty excuses. I should have known. I can’t trust anyone.” She throws her hand up at a cab, and the driver pumps the breaks.

            “Clarke, it’s not what you think,” Bellamy says. He feels weak, sad, and useless. He can’t help her, or comfort her.

            “I’ve heard that one before,” she says, and gets into the cab. The door slams and the car pulls away. Bellamy is left alone under the streetlights, music from the club still echoing up the empty sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, COMMENT!! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Chapter 4 is in the works, so get pumped!! -Kristen


	4. Flowers and Dog Attacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy buys Clarke apology flowers... and the plan goes badly. (tw: dog attack)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Again, sorry for the wait! But here is the last chapter, I am excited to share it! COMMENT!!  
> -Kristen <3

            A week later, Clarke still hasn’t seen Bellamy. She refuses to call or text, but for some reason she can’t get herself to throw away that napkin with his number on it.

            It’s Sunday, and Clarke is just starting to get used to the new apartment. Harper has accustomed herself very easily, not to Clarke’s surprise. The girl fits in anywhere.

            The two of them are sitting together eating breakfast in the kitchen. Eggs and bacon for Harper, and French toast for Clarke.

            “You okay? I know you’re still mad at him,” Harper says. Clarke pushes around the French toast on her plate.

            “I’m not _mad_ a him,” she says, “I’m _over_ him. It’s different.”

            “Well we both know that’s a lie, so you don’t have to pretend it’s still true,” Harper says back.

            “Well, I _should_ be mad at him, Harper! I have the right to be!” Clarke says, raising her voice. “He’s _just_ like Finn! All men are the same! I was insane to think that he was any different. Especially someone like… someone like Bellamy Blake.”

            Harper stands up, finished, and goes to set her plate in the sink.

            “Monty isn’t the same as all men,” Harper says, her back to Clarke. _Shit._

            “Harper, I didn’t… I didn’t mean that Monty—”

            “I know,” Harper says, turning around to face her, “I know, Clarke. But about Bellamy, I think you should go look for the whole story. It might not be exactly what you think.”

            “You know this?” asks Clarke. Maybe Harper had heard something on set.

            “I know enough to know that you don’t have the full story, Clarke,” she says, “You might want to give him another shot.”

            With that, Harper walks toward the front door, grabbing her purse on the way.

            “I’m headed to set,” Harper says, “I’ll see you later tonight.” Clarke stands, her chair scraping the wood floor as she moves.

            “Harper, wait,” Clarke says. Harper turns. Clarke goes to her friend an throws her arms around her. Harper returns the hug, pulling her best friend close.

            “Thank you, Harp. I know I’m not always an easy friend,” Clarke says.

            “I love you anyway, nerd,” Harper says back. They both giggle, and then Harper leaves for set. Clarke watches her go, ready for her day of relaxation. She’d worry about Bellamy Blake tomorrow.

 

***

 

            Bellamy can barely stand it. He wants to call her so badly. It has been just over a week, and not one word, text, call, or anything has come from Clarke. He wants to explain the truth of what happened so much. He even managed to get her number off of Raven, who got it from Harper. Even though he got her number, Bellamy hasn’t called her. For some reason, he just knows that Clarke needs time to think through things on her own. But…

            “What can I help you with, sir?” asks the woman at the flower shop. Bellamy _has_ to do something. Buying Clarke flowers won’t hurt, right? He hopes not.

            “I’d like two-dozen roses, please,” he says, smiling at the florist.

            “Two-dozen? All right, and what color would you like them?” she asks. Bellamy considers. Red might be too cliché, but he doesn’t want a freaky-looking bouquet.

            “Umm, let’s do half yellow and half pink,” she says. The older woman nods and goes to get the flowers. Compulsively, Bellamy checks his phone. Nothing from Clarke.

            _I’m pathetic,_ he thinks. _I get one day off from filming, and I spend it buying roses for a girl who hates me._

            The woman returns with two-dozen beautiful roses. Another, younger girl trails behind her.

            “It _is_ him,” she whispers to the older woman. Bellamy’s cheeks warm. They must have recognized him.

            “Are you Bellamy Blake?” the young girl asks from across the counter. Bellamy’s lips pull up at the corners, revealing his Hollywood smile.

            “Yes, I am,” he says, and the girl giggles.

            “Wow,” she says, “it’s an honor to meet you. Whoever… whoever is getting those flowers is a really lucky girl.” Bellamy chuckles. Clarke might not think so, but Bellamy can hope.

            “Thank you so much,” Bellamy says. After buying the flowers, signing an autograph, and posing for a quick picture, Bellamy steps out of the flower shop, bouquet in tow.

            As he walks toward Clarke’s apartment, he remembers the past week. It’s been hell. He can’t stop thinking about Clarke; that night at the bar, her gorgeous dress, the tears streaming down her face. Damn, it was all his fault. He should have told Echo to get out the _second_ he saw her at the bar. But he didn’t, and now Clarke was hurt. Bellamy had hurt her. And he might not ever get her forgiveness. He sure as hell was never going to forgive himself, not after seeing her tears. Not after knowing that Clarke had experienced something like that before.

On top of that, work was awful. His onscreen chemistry with Echo has gone to shit, now that he can barely look at her without getting enraged. If he thought he hated her before, he was wrong. He really can’t stand her now. _Thank God I have a day off,_ Bellamy thinks, _I needed a break from that girl._

Still a block away, Bellamy takes a moment’s pause to examine the flowers. Each perfect rose is a vibrant pink or yellow, and they were arranged to look full and beautiful. He hopes Clarke will like them, or even just take them. He just wants her to know how sorry he is to have hurt her.

As he rounds the last corner to her apartment, he comes face to face with a dog. It looks like a German shepherd mix, or something of the sort. It has no collar. Immediately, Bellamy backs away. The dog doesn’t look friendly. _Oh, no,_ Bellamy thinks. It’s the middle of the day, don’t stray rabid dogs come out at night? He holds the bouquet closer to his chest and walks slowly around the dog, hoping it will walk back into the alley it came from. No luck.

As Bellamy gets closer, the dog begins to growl. He moves out onto the street, out of the way of the dog completely, but the dog follows him, slowly. _Shit._

It happens fast.

The dog leaps toward Bellamy. Before he can jump out of the way, the animal is on top of him. It sinks its teeth into his forearm, and Bellamy jerks back, dropping the bouquet and yelling. He falls backward onto the ground. The dog falls away for a moment, but comes back seconds later, this time scratching his torso and biting his shoulder. Bellamy swears and rolls over, scratch marks digging further into the skin if his chest, though his shirt.

Before the dog can attack him again, Bellamy makes a quick grab for the flowers and sprints away, his injuries stinging every step of the way.

“Oh my god,” Bellamy says once he’s out of range of the animal. “Oh my god. Ow—” He sucks in a breath as the cuts sting his chest, shoulder, and arm. “Dammit!” he yells to no one. This was not how the day was supposed to go. He looks down at his body. Blood is beginning to seep through his blue shirt, and his forearm doesn’t look too bad, but it hurts like hell.

The flowers are battered, dirty, and around half of them have been broken or destroyed. Damn.

Eventually, slowly, he makes his way up to Clarke’s apartment. _Here we go,_ Bellamy says to himself, figuring that he might as well see Clarke before he passes out from blood loss. He knocks on the door, holding what’s left of the flowers in front of him.

 

***

 

            Clarke’s day off is going well. She’s taken a nap, cleaned up her room and the living room, and now she sits on the couch of the main room, flipping through Netflix and dozing off every once in a while. The only thing that could make the day better was maybe a margarita. Or pizza. Flipping through different shows, Clarke decides to watch some old episodes of _Friends_. After choosing that, she throws the remote control on the table and flops back onto the couch.

            “Stop thinking about him,” she says aloud to herself, “stoooop. It’s not worth it!” But she can’t help it. Her thoughts always drift back to Bellamy. She wants to know what really happened that night. She swore to herself this morning that she wouldn’t worry about it until tomorrow, but she might call. Or maybe just text….

            Still in her pajamas (which is really just an oversized t-shirt), she makes her way to her room, toward the napkin. _Friends_ is still playing in the other room, but she knows every episode by heart. Before she can reach the hall, she is interrupted by a knock at the door.

            Clarke freezes. _Who could that be? Harper surely wouldn’t be home by now._ She hesitates for a moment, but figures that it might just be the mail, or Monty or something. Clarke makes her way over to the door and opens it.

            The first thing she sees is him. Bellamy Blake. Then it’s the flowers, which look, well, bad. Did he drop them? Rub them on the concrete? Then he speaks.

            “Hi, Clarke, it’s um, I just wanted to come by and say sorry. And bring flowers,” he says.

            “Oh my god,” she says, realizing that she’s only wearing a t-shirt, and then “Oh my _god!”_ when she realizes that Bellamy is bleeding everywhere. He sways on his feet for a moment, then leans up against the door frame.

            “What the hell happened, Bellamy?” she shrieks, taking the flowers and grabbing his arm, careful not to touch his wounds. She sets the flowers down on the ground and pulls Bellamy into the apartment. He steps in, taking a deep breath.

            “Really, I’m fine, I promise,” he says, “I just got attacked by a dog a little bit.”

            “Are you serious? Come here, come sit down,” she says, and he follows. She leads him to the closest piece of furniture, the couch she was just lounging on. He sits – more like falls – onto the couch. Clarke begins to examine his cuts and scratches, leaning over him.

            “Clarke,” he says. Hearing the tone of his voice, Clarke looks away from his injuries and into his dark brown eyes. They are clear – in a lot of pain, but clear. He stares back, unblinking.

            “I am so sorry for what happened, Clarke. It was a mistake, and I’m so so sorry,” he says. Clarke’s breath hitches in her throat, and for some reason she feels like crying. She leans over him on the couch and places a gentle hand on his face.

            “It’s… it’s okay, it doesn’t matter now. Let me get my med kit, okay?” But Bellamy stops her before she can pull away, grabbing her small hand. He winces in pain and grits his teeth with the movement.

            “Bellamy, please,” Clarke begs, trying to pull away. She _has_ to fix him. She needs her kit.

            “No, Clarke, listen. It _does_ matter. I hurt you, and it matters. I am so sorry,” he says. Clarke nods, trying to focus on his injuries and not his perfect, sincere apology.

            “Okay, Bellamy, let’s talk about this later alright? I need to get supplies and patch you up. Let me get my phone to call a doctor, okay? I’ll be right back,” she says.

            “No! Don’t call anyone. I don’t want to deal with that right now, I just, I just need clean myself up and get some rest. I really don’t need a doctor, I promise,” he says. Clarke steps away to get her med kit.

            “You probably _do_ need one, but for now I’ll just clean you up a bit,” she says. Bellamy mumbles an agreement, and Clarke comes back in with her med kit and a wet towel.

            “Okay,” she says, appearing over him, “let me take a look.” Bellamy nods. Clarke takes his hand gently, examining the bite marks on his forearm. They don’t look deep at all, but they do look painful. She can see the muscles in his arm tense under her touch, maybe from nervousness or maybe from pain. She puts her fingers right near the marks and pulls his arm closer to her face, getting a better look. It’s not bleeding much anymore.

            “The bite marks actually don’t look too bad. They might hurt, but they could be a lot worse.” Clarke blushes a bit but says, “I need you to take your shirt off.”

            Bellamy’s lips pull up at the corners and it makes Clarke’s heart stop for a moment.

            “Need? Or want?” he says, his head lolling to one side. Some of his dark curls fall into his eyes. Without thinking, Clarke brushes them away. Bellamy glances at her, and they maintain intense eye contact for a while before either of them moves.

            “Need,” she says. He begins to pull at his shirt, and it takes him a while but eventually it comes off. As he rests his arm back down, he bites his lower lip. His shoulder looks like the worst of it.

            For a second, Clarke can’t focus. Bellamy Blake has a _nice_ body. Strong chest, big arms, and even abs. Plus, he’s tan from the L.A. sun. Her heart beats a little faster. She shakes her head to banish her thoughts of kissing him. She needs to heal him, not make out with him.

            “Impressed?” he says, catching her staring. She examines his wounds, ignoring her blush.

            “You’re an ass,” she replies, grabbing the wet towel she brought over and dabbing at the scratches on his chest. He sucks in a breath, and Clarke glances at him. It’s painful, she can tell.

            “I’m sorry, Bellamy, but I have to clean the scratches. It’ll be over soon,” she says. He nods and closes his eyes. He lets his head fall back onto the couch.

            “You shouldn’t be saying sorry,” Bellamy says as she cleans the scratches, “it should be me apologizing.”

            “Harper said I didn’t have the full story,” she says. Bellamy’s eyes open and snap right to hers. They freeze there for a moment.

            “That’s not what matters. What matters is that I hurt you, and that’s not okay. I am so sorry for hurting you, Clarke,” he says.

            “Bellamy, I forgive you. I know you’re being sincere. But… what really happened that night?”

            “Echo…” he starts, and then takes a deep breath. His perfect chest rises with the action. “Echo came over to me after you left. She must have seen us together and gotten jealous or something. She came over, said some bullshit about fixing our ‘relationship’, and then pushed me up against the bar and kissed me. As soon as I knew what was going on, I pushed her away. I don’t want her, and I told her that. I said I didn’t want her and she came onto me anyway,” he says. He looks away from Clarke. His eyes settle on her hand resting on his chest.

            “Just… I just want you to know that you were the only person I wanted that night. The only person I want right now,” he says. Clarke studies Bellamy. His long eyelashes cover his eyes as he looks down, and his freckles look more pronounced than the last time she saw him, maybe from some filming in the sun. He bites his lower lip and then releases it. He’s driving her crazy.

            _But is he telling the truth?_ Clarke asks herself. She doesn’t want to fall for a cheating, lying bastard again. But by the way he just explained what happened, she knows he’s telling the truth.

            “I... Bellamy, I’m sorry. For not giving you the chance to tell the truth, and for leaving you hanging for a week,” she says.

            “Clarke, don’t say that, it was my fault. I should have never let her get near me, I should have been more careful. I care about you, and I can’t believe I just –”

            “Bellamy, it’s okay. Maybe it was both of our faults,” she says. “And it’s over. I’m glad you shared with me what really happened. And, for what it’s worth, you’re the only person I want as well.” Clarke can’t believe she said that, but as the words escape her lips, she realizes they are true. Bellamy nods, and his lips pull up at the corners. Damn, Clarke wants to kiss him. But she can’t, at least not right now. Right now, he’s her patient. And no matter how much she wants to, Clarke can’t make out with her patient. She takes a deep breath.

            “Alright, let me check out your shoulder really quick,” she says. She leans across his body to his shoulder to clean up the blood there. The deepest bites are in his shoulder, but it still doesn’t need stitches. Good.

            “The bites don’t look too deep. You won’t need any stitches. You’re lucky,” Clarke says. Bellamy sighs, and Clarke feels his breath move strands of her hair and brush her neck. They’re close.

            “I don’t exactly _feel_ lucky,” he says, “actually, scratch that. I do.”

            “Why?” she asks, still dabbing at his wound. In response, Bellamy brushes Clarke’s blonde hair behind her shoulder, revealing her neck. Clarke freezes. She wants him, that’s a fact, but she’s still scared – of getting hurt, of being cheated on, of being left.

            “Clarke,” he whispers, “I’m not gonna hurt you.” And she believes him. Despite all her fears, her worries, everything, she believes him.

            “I know,” she whispers back. He presses his lips to a soft spot on her neck, and she melts. Clarke feels like she can breathe again for the first time in a very long time. She’s willing to let herself trust someone, trust Bellamy. He kisses her throat again, softly, and then quickly in a trail up her neck. She giggles, and Bellamy smiles against her skin.

            “By the way,” he says, “I love the outfit, Princess.” She remembers that she’s only wearing a large t-shirt over her bra and underwear, and laughs.

            “Thanks,” she says back. Despite his injuries, Bellamy brings his hands up to her face, placing them on her cheeks. His fingers are dry and warm.

            “Clarke, can I kiss you?” he asks. His dark eyes stare up at hers. She gazes back at him, loving the curve of his lips, his perfect nose, and the freckles splashed across his face.

            In answer to his question, Clarke leans in to Bellamy and presses her lips to his. The kiss is perfect, and her heart beats wildly. She’s kissing Bellamy Blake, and she can barely believe it. He takes his hands from her face, and wraps his arms around her waist.

            “You shouldn’t,” she mumbles against his lips, “your arm.” But he pulls her to him anyway.

            “I don’t care,” he says. His hands roam her back, and he kisses her. It’s passionate, sweet, and everything Clarke hoped it would be. Her thoughts scramble and the kiss gets deeper. He pulls Clarke into his lap. She is surprised (and impressed) at his strength. She leans onto him, pressing her chest up against his. Clarke bends down to press quick kisses along his neck and collarbone. He sucks in a breath, from pain or pleasure Clarke can’t tell.

            They break away from the kiss for a breath. Bellamy reaches his arm up toward Clarke’s face, but winces as he moves his arm. Crap. Clarke should _not_ have gotten so distracted! She’s a nurse for goodness sake! He’s probably causing further damage to his bites and scratches. He pulls her in for another kiss, but she leans away. No matter how much she wants this, Bellamy needs medical attention.

            “Wait, Bellamy. Hold on,” she says, and he lets her go, concern in his eyes.

            “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

            “No, not at all!” she says quickly, placing her hands on his bare chest. “I just, it’s… you need to see a doctor, Bellamy.” He rolls his eyes, but she’s serious.

            “You really do,” she says. “I’m a nurse, but I can’t prescribe meds and stuff. I should get you to a doctor.” She stands, and reaches a hand out to Bellamy. He takes it with his good hand, grasping her tiny fingers in his large ones.

            “Promise me,” he says, standing up next to Clarke.

            “Promise you what?” she asks. Their hands are still joined, and Bellamy is standing in Clarke’s space. Chest to chest.

            “Promise me you’ll let me buy you coffee. Take you out. On a date,” he says. His dark eyes stare down at her. Clarke weaves her arms around his waist, careful to stay away from his wounds.

            “I promise you,” she says, looking up at him. The smile he gives her is perfect, beautiful, and only for her. Before she knows what’s happening, Bellamy has picked her up with only his good arm and is holding her up against him. She gives a small gasp.

            “I’m as strong as I look, you know,” he says, a cocky grin spreading across his face. Clarke rolls her eyes, but her smile is genuine.

            “Put me down so I can take you to a doctor, crazy,” she says. He lets her down, but not after planting a sweet kiss on her mouth, and then another softer kiss on her nose.

            “You’re beautiful,” he says, and sets her down. Clarke throws on some leggings, and the couple walks out the door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me this far! ALSO! I am adding an Epilogue Chapter, so watch out for that. I felt like the ending was really quick, so I wanted to add something later, after the climax chapter. The Epilogue will be out soon, in a few days most likely. COMMENT!! I love feedback. Thanks to all of you! -Kristen <3
> 
> also, i'm on tumblr! http://bellarkekittens.tumblr.com/


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